Contention 1 is Inherency
by myspiderwebsitar
Summary: Kevin Price, captain of a nationally-ranked policy debate team, doesn't understand why a group of such successful and intelligent people act like such idiots all the time. Sean McKinley thinks it's a bit rich that Kevin Price is calling him an idiot. AU.
1. Chapter 1: Inherency

**A/N:** Hey guess what! I'm attempting a multi-chapter fic. This has the potential to end disastrously. Or be really really boring if you don't care about policy debate. So, here's what you need to know:

I kind of envision this as a Glee-type TV show. Starring some misfit high schoolers who happen to be incredibly attractive and very devoted to their favorite club. A few overarching plots, and some wtf character development. (A quick note about Nabulungi: she appears here differently than she does in the show. That's because I think a Nabulungi growing up in backwards, anti-progressive, Mormon American territory would have to be very very tough.)

I will include a mini-debate glossary at the end. I tried to make this as accessible as possible, in terms of debate references everyone would understand, but I'm not sure I succeeded. So, there you have it. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

It was the third day of practice, and only the fifth day of September, when Nabulungi Hatimbi waltzed through the door and announced to the room at large that she wanted to join the MTC speech and debate team.

Kevin Price, who was the newly-appointed captain (despite many protests by two very vocal members of aforementioned team), turned around from his files with a frozen grin on his face.

"I'm... sorry?"

"You heard me." Nabulungi grinned, crossing the room, her bag slung over one shoulder. "I want to join this debate team."

Kevin looked around frantically. His fellow teammates were either way too fascinated by their Security K 2AC blocks, or very good at avoiding eye contact. Even Kevin's partner Arnold, who usually had to be pried away from his side with a crow bar, was offering no support, thoroughly engrossed in some pathetic Planet Debate DA he had found. Some best friend he was.

"Yeah! Sure! We'd, uh, love to have you! Uh, Nan... Nala... Nina?"

Nabulungi rolled her eyes. "Nabulungi. Thank you, Kevin Price."

"Sure. Sure! Only thing is, we have an even number of people right now. So, uh, I can't really offer you a partner at the moment. And, you, uh, kind of need a partner."

Behind him, James Church nodded in agreement.

"No problem!" crowed Nabulungi. "I'm sure Asmeret will join too, if I ask her. Can we start tomorrow?"

"I, uh... yeah, I don't see why not," said Kevin, trying desperately to think of a reason why not. "I mean, policy debate is a really complicated thing? Do you even know anything about... I mean, it took me years to even understand it, and I'm still -_heh_- not that good."

"Oh, please. You were nationally ranked last year. You had a TOC bid!" Nabulungi laughed, but it was an unsure sound.

"I- yeah! But only one bid! That's not enough! I don't know everything! I'm not, like, you know, actually good... Hang on a second, what do_ you_ know about TOC?"

Nabulungi smiled a_ gotcha_ smile. "My old school had policy debate, too. Didn't go to any national league tournaments, but I do know what a case is, and enough to know you're holding that one upside-down." She pointed at the red-head standing closest to her.

Sean McKinley looked at his backwards files and blushed.

Kevin didn't quite know what to do.

"Well, uh, Miss Nabulungi, I guess... thanks for stopping by. Here's a permission slip, here's a tournament schedule, and if you hang on a second, I'll get you the wording of the resolution-"

"The United States Federal Government should substantially increase its exploration and/or development of space beyond Earth's mesosphere. You're not the only one around here who can do research, Kevin."

"Wow! Uh, okay, awesome. Great to have you here then. You can get started... whenever." Kevin wasn't entirely sure what he thought of this new kid yet, but he had a feeling she already had an opinion of him, and he wasn't about to prove her right.

"What are we running this year?"

"We, well, actually, we haven't picked a case yet. You know, if you want to give us your input."

Nabulungi shrugged. "I'll leave that to the people who know what they're doing. It's nice to be a part of your team, Kevin."

"And it's nice to have you. Guys, can we give a warm welcome to our newest member?"

It was a historic moment of integration for the MTC debate team. Ten white, male faces met Nabulungi's triumphant smile with their own blank stares.

Not to be outdone by diplomacy master Kevin Price, Sean McKinley managed to add, "Hi, Nabulungi. I'm Sean."

Nabulungi gave him a grateful smile.

* * *

><p>As he unlocked his bike from the rack, Kevin Price turned to Arnold, on his way to the bus stop, and said under his breath, "So? What do you think?"<p>

"About my Star Wars K? Well, Kevin! I-I'm not done with it yet! I wish you'd stop tryna hurry me. We haven't even got a case yet, I mean, uhhh... ooh, Kevin, I found this super cool impact card yesterday though-"

"No, I meant about Nabulungi."

"Nabulungi? OHH! That's what she was saying her name was. Umm... Oh, I dunno. She was super way pretty, wasn't she? Like, her hair!"

Kevin gave his friend a doubtful look. "I, uh, didn't notice."

"WHAT? What? C'mon, how could you not notice? She's like- like- like that-_ hey Kevin_ you know that movie we saw last week? Like that girl who played, uhh... I don't remember but HEY KEVIN YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT RIGHT?"

Arnold's inside voice was not something he had received favorable marks on in elementary school.

Kevin shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I mean- what do you think she debates like? Do you think she's one of those K debaters? Or a slacker? Or maybe she smokes pot all the time? Or maybe she's one of those pretentious existentialist types? Oh, man, why did I let her in?"

Arnold stared. "Pot? Did you see her teeth! She is _hot_, Kevin. No girl with teeth like that is lighting up after school-"

"Yeah, well, your inexperience and objectification of females aside, I don't know if I made the right call. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I know I'm captain but you guys could have given me some help there."

"Help? To do what?"

"To, I don't know. Help me make excuses for not letting her join?"

"Why wouldn't you want her to join?" Arnold looked so genuinely confused it was hard for Kevin not to be as well.

"Forget it. Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow, Arnold. Make sure you bring that flash drive with the Star Wars arguments, okay?"

"Yeah! Got it! I- the flash drive! Right! Of course! The flash drive, definitely won't forget the flash drive, how could I forget the flash drive, tomorrow I will bring the flash drive... the flash drive... yeah, okay. Bye Kevin! _The flash drive..._"

Kevin smiled fondly. Poor kid hadn't remembered the flash drive for the past week and a half; there was no way he was going to tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Sean McKinley and Kevin Price sat next to each other in first period Government class. It was the only class they had together, and for some reason, their teacher had thought it would be a good idea to put her two top students together. Of course she had- she was one of those Teach For America grads who'd be off running a hedge fund in two years, but wanted to fulfill her community obligation and good person quota of teaching in a sheltered suburban school first.<p>

The seating arrangement might have been a good idea, if those two students weren't Kevin Price and Sean McKinley. It wasn't that they didn't like each other (although, good luck trying to get either one to admit it), but it was very much like neither Sean nor Kevin knew how to shut up. But the teacher, far too stubborn and unwise in the ways of high schoolers, could not admit she made a mistake with her seating chart, and left them there. Together.

In a way, it was a perfect match. Sean read all of Kevin's essays before he turned them in, insulting them thoroughly and complaining about everything from "Kevin, did a cat teach you sentence structure?" to "Oh my goodness Kevin, you can't just repeat the same idea three times and expect it to be a paragraph." Kevin was the first one to see Sean's test grade- he grabbed the paper before Sean even had a chance to touch it- and teased him mercilessly if it was anything under his own, always perfect, grade. The teacher justified it by saying competition led to higher quality of learning. She was a capitalist like that.

It was about three times a day that Kevin and Sean put up with comments from their classmates like, "Could you guys shut up now? Some of us are trying to pay attention here," or more commonly "do you guys hate each other or something?" and of course the dreaded "Kevin, stop flirting with Sean and help me understand question four."

Kevin and Sean didn't hate each other. It was that magical, insane bond they shared- every Saturday, they rooted for each other to beat those pretentious private schools with lame arguments like 'condo good' and bizarre ones like 'solar energy causes alien invasion' and no two people who were as invested in each others' success as Kevin Price and Sean McKinley could ever really hate each other.

On one particular dreadful Thursday morning, Kevin was late to first period. And Sean, who didn't like to admit it, didn't exactly want to go through Government without his obnoxious, infuriating, neurotic, high-strung competition. It just wouldn't be as much _fun_. There was no one else in this pathetic class even remotely intelligent enough to serve as his snark bait. And Sean couldn't very well keep the sarcasm in his head -he might as well explode.

So when Kevin walked in five minutes late and was promptly handed a tardy slip and today's worksheet for his troubles, Sean felt himself sigh in relief.

"Where were you?"

Kevin grimaced at his tardy slip, which meant he now owed this insufferable teacher ten minutes of his lunch period.

"Ehh, I couldn't get my bike to lock."

Sean giggled. Kevin glared at him.

"My parents will kill me if-"

"Oh, yeah, and someone's going to steal that here? In a place like this?"

"Well, you never know-"

Sean shrugged, then leaned over, a little too far onto Kevin's desk in his attempts to catch him up on the day's classwork.

"Here. We're analyzing the essay from last class. You only have to do the first three problems but make sure they're in paragraph form. And, uh, we got our Constitutional Law essays back so if you want yours you can probably ask for it."

Kevin nodded. "Thanks. How did you do?"

Sean shrugged. "Got a 93. Apparently she didn't like my overuse of flowery metaphors. I thought they were brilliant. Can you believe she actually called them 'overdone?' Crazy!"

Kevin laughed. "Told you you should have stuck with the first draft introduction."

"Ugh- that one was so Sparknotes. Whatever. I'm upholding my creative integrity. And a 93 is okay."

"Unless I got a 94," Kevin teased.

"You? Master of the overwrought purple prose? Unlikely, Kevin."

"Well, let me find out."

Kevin returned to his seat a moment later, livid.

'An 88? An 88? What- what on _Earth_- you know, this is the only class where I actually ever score something that's not an A. Ever. What does that tell you?"

"You're distracted by my charm and intimidated by my intelligence?"

"This lady can't teach. Or grade. My goodness, a B!"

"B+."

Kevin glared at him, then snatched Sean's paper from his hands. He read over it closely, disgusted that he couldn't find any errors and worse- that the essay was actually pretty good.

Sean shook his head.

"I agree with you, she's a terrible teacher. But I've been meaning to ask you- have you decided on our case yet?"

"I think... I'm feeling solar power this year."

"That's so common, though."

"You hipster."

"B student."

"Jerk."

"Slacker."

"At least I'm the team captain."

Sean shook his head. "A dreadful mistake. I expect to be promoted by December, when everyone realizes how actually incompetent you are."

Kevin swatted his hand. "Hey! You- well- you know what? Maybe I got it cause I'm better than you. Who won state finals last year, huh?"

"Well, who do you think's going to win states this year?"

"Oh... I dunno...two-time champions Kevin Price and Arnold Cunningham?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "Oh, Kevin. You're on."

"Huh?"

"There's no way you're going to win this year. It's Chris and my turn. We're going to destroy you."

Kevin laughed, a smug, irritated sound.

"And, when I win," Sean continued with too-devious smirk for that innocent face, "you have to promise me you'll at least give Friends a chance."

Kevin made the mistake of looking into Sean's eyes as he tried to think of a comeback. He found himself instead blushing furiously, so he settled for quickly engrossing himself in his B+ essay.

* * *

><p>Arnold was not looking forward to telling Kevin his news. Not at all. It was the first tournament of the year, and he- he what? Couldn't go? Because of some fan convention that he had promised his friends- he had promised them <em>years<em> ago- this was _not_ an everyday opportunity-

Yeah. That was going to fly with Kevin. Might as well pretend he had some family plans or emergency or something. An emergency that he knew about two weeks in advance, or something.

Yeah. That was not going to fly with Kevin, either. You could be bleeding out of your eyeballs, and have forgotten all your evidence at home, and that was no excuse for you not to go undefeated at a tournament. (Kevin's personal philosophy, anyway- it had come flying out of his mouth at the end of a very long, very tense, very infuriating debate practice with some novices last year who Kevin had scared off- probably due to his yelling about bleeding from eyeballs not being an excuse for skipping a tournament.)

So, uh, what kind of excuses did fly with Kevin? Immediate death. Religious holiday- no, no, that was no good. They went to the same church. Embracing his inner Judaism? Kevin probably didn't know when the Jewish holidays were... Arnold had the right hair, he could pass...

No, right, they went to the same church, okay, new plan then.

Family reasons._ Family reasons_. Kevin couldn't argue with family reasons. Right. Okay. Might as well do this now...

Arnold nervously tapped Kevin on the shoulder. _Eye contact, Arnold. Eye contact. Kevin is your friend. He won't bite. Probably. I mean- you can tell him. Just- NO NOT TOMORROW. Just tell him._

"Yeah?" Kevin beamed. "Hey, look at this! I just thought of a way to write our plan text so we can avoid linking to the enviornmental neoliberal K!"

"...The what?"

"Oh, sorry, have I not showed you that yet? I'll do that today! It's some BS argument that Roosevelt cut... What's up, Arnold?"

"I, uh, oh, well, see, it's like, uh, Kevin, I kinda got some bad news for you," Arnold stuttered.

"Uh-huh?"

"I'm, uh, yeah, well, I'm not going to make the first, uh, heh, tournament. Oh, okay, I'm sorry, it's like- uhh, well, I've got this thing going on, see? This thing- this family thing- this fan-ily- I mean, family thing and I can't help it I tried to get out of it but it's like all day, right? So, uh, yeah, I can't come ohmygoshpleasedon'tkickmeofftheteam."

"...Arnold?"

"...Yeah?" Arnold looked shamefully up from his shoes.

"Why on Earth would I kick you out? Then I wouldn't have a partner, which would be counter-intuitive and completely useless seeing as I am planning to debate this year."

"I dunno. Maybe you have a strict rule about coming to the first tournament or something?"

"Arnold, I may be the captain, but I'm not the coach. I can't kick you off the team. And I don't know why I'd want to. Then who would I have to take offensive theory in the 2NC?"

Arnold grinned sheepishly. "Good point."

"Yeah, I... dammit."

"What?" Arnold was alarmed.

Kevin sighed. "Oh, it's just... Chris told me today he had something the day of that tournament too. Some really big soccer game or something? I didn't make a big deal out of it because, well, I know he's upset that I'm captain but- but, damn, Arnold, besides us and him and Sean, no one else's going to be ready two weeks from now. And we REALLY need to go to this tournament. Otherwise we won't have enough points to qualify for nationals and-"

"We have to go to this tournament?"

"Yes! I mean, well, the school has to be there. Like, we need someone to represent us so we can put this tournament on our roster, it doesn't matter how we do, we just need to make it..."

"You can always go with Sean."

"I... what?"

"With Sean. You and Sean can go to the tournament together. You'd work well enough together, let's face it, Kevin- you guys are the best two on this team. It'd be like the dream team of the century. You and Sean! You guys- man, you'd blow up the place."

"Yeah, what about when we can't stop screaming at each other about our 2NR strategy? There's no way I'm going with Sean. We'd kill each other, and then what would you do? If I was dead and you were crying over my grave? What would happen to this team? How would we get to TOC then?"

"Heh, Kevin, I always knew you had your priorities s-straight. But, uh- don't you think like you could maybe put that aside and like just for one weekend maybe try and get along with Sean so we can have enough points to-"

Kevin sighed deeply. "Alright, okay, fine. You're right. I can't believe it. I guess this is one sacrifice I'll just have to make."

Arnold grinned. "Your ballots are going to be awesome!"

Kevin resisted the urge to hit something. Now, he just had to break the news to Sean.

_Fun_.

**A/N: **So, um, this is more about debate and less about BoM characters than I was intending. I'm really sorry about that (I just get so excited about debate, honestly- it's like my other fandom) and I'll try and focus more on the characters in the next installment.

So, um, policy debate. There's an affirmative team that defends the resolution and a negative team that tries to knock them down. Here is some vocabulary I used explained in a clumsy way:

Security K—A philosophical argument that essentially says when the country focuses only on preserving its security, bad things happen

2AC blocks—The outline of the arguments one would make in their second speech as the affirmative team

Planet Debate—a website that's basically the dregs of policy debate- like mary sue fic is to fanfiction, planet debate is to policy debate

DA—disadvantage; an argument that says, more often than not, we will all die as a result of nuclear war

TOC—Tournament of Champions; the most prestigious debate tournament

Case-a basic affirmative argument. For example, under the resolution Nabulungi mentions, one case could be Let's Go To Visit Mars And Live There

K—a kritik. Essentially, a philosophical argument; comes in way too many forms and makes my head hurt

Impact—the part of your argument that mentions everyone dying

Card—a piece of evidence

Condo good—An argument that says conditionality (where a neg team can drop arguments they've already brought up) is good for debate

Environmental neoliberal K—I just made this argument up. It sounds terrible; anyone who runs it is probably an asshole

Linking to—when the arguments you make cause something (either good or bad) to happen

Offensive theory—arguments about which arguments are fair to make, with a voter attached. (A voter is a reason for the judge to give you the win-'the other team is being unfair because they didn't follow x rule' is such a reason)

2NC—the second negative constructive—it's a speech that the negative team gives

2NR—second negative rebuttal-the last speech given by the negative team, where they choose their final strategy in terms of what arguments they believe can win them the debate


	2. Chapter 2: Thus, the plan

**A/N:** Hello lovely people! Thank you all a million times for the response to this story. It quite honestly made my weekend (which didn't need to be made in the first place because I saw Andrew and Josh omg) but you all are _ah-mazing_ and its made me slighly intimidated about posting this next chapter but here you go!

For Marla.

**Chapter 2**

Kevin caught up to Sean just before he ducked into AP biology.

"Sean! Hey, Sean! I need to talk to you a second."

Sean whirled around. His notebook was clutched to his chest. He had a pencil behind his ear and at least two more sticking out of his pocket. Kevin tried not to think about how cute it- yeah, not cute at all.

"So, I heard Chris can't come to the Wake Forest invitational."

"That's correct."

"Bummer. You know what's worse?"

"No, what?"

"Arnold's busy that day, too."

"Ouch."

"So, we're going to be totally unrepresented at that tournament, which is really, really bad."

"And?"

"And I've made the executive decision as team captain that you and I are going to go together. As partners."

Sean shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no, no, _no_. See? This is why I should be captain, Kevin. That is a terrible idea. We cannot go to a tournament together. We cannot get through first period together. I am _not_ going to a debate tournament with you. You will probably stab me in my sleep."

Kevin shook his head. "Oh, you're right, Sean. I hadn't even thought about our rooming situation."

"Exactly. See, Kevin? I cannot possibly share a room with you. I cannot possibly share a room, or a tournament, or a trophy, or a tub, or a laptop with you. This is _not_ going to work."

"Why not?"

"Because we hate each other-" Sean looked up at Kevin, who seemed almost genuinely hurt at his outburst. "Kevin? Are you... did I... did I say something wrong?"

Kevin shook his head, forcing a laugh. "Uh, no. No worries. I mean- it's okay. That you feel that way. I just- I just didn't realize I was_ that_ bad a debate partner. I'm- yeah. It's okay. I didn't know you disliked me _that_ much, ha."

Sean turned bright red, his mouth slightly open. "I, uh- oh, gosh, Kevin, I thought- I thought- I thought you knew- never mind, okay? Forget it. Forget I said that. I didn't mean it-I mean, oh, man, working with you would be- I guess- we'd rock that tournament. Kevin, getting to debate with you would be like- yeah. I mean, let's do it."

Kevin grinned. "You're the best. Okay. I'm going to be late to class now. Um, I'll see you at practice?"

"Yeah. Sure. Right, then."

Sean continued into biology, sitting down next to Laura.

"Oh... my God."

"Sean?"

"I can't believe..."

"What happened?"

"I'm going to my next debate tournament with _Kevin Price_."

Laura looked at him a moment, then burst out laughing. "Only you, Sean, could possibly say that like it's a bad thing."

Sean shrugged. "It is a bad thing! I had a momentary lapse of judgment and memory and all that's near and dear to me and I just agreed to go to a debate tournament WITH KEVIN PRICE. And sleep in the same hotel room, because there's no way we can pay for separate ones. Oh my goodness, _WHAT_ AM I DOING?"

Sean's stage whisper had attracted half the class's attention. Laura's smirk was evident.

"Sean! That's amazing! You're so lucky! I'd- hell, I'd even _join_ debate for Kevin Price."

"Do it, then," Sean grumbled. "He's not going anywhere. We could use some sane people around this team."

"So?" said Laura.

"So what?" asked Sean.

"_So_, how did he convince you to go with him?"

"He... he guilted me! He hypnotized me! I don't know! I hate him. I just agreed to this stupid thing, and of course I remember now -two minutes later- that I hate him. Lauraaaaaaa! What am I going to do?"

"Go with him! Sean, you're a lucky man. Okay? Trust me on this. I'm right. I'm always right. If you go with Kevin Price- and give me all the details- good things will happen that weekend. I promise."

_Laura's advice_, Sean thought, _is not as good as she thinks it is._

* * *

><p>Later that night, Sean was stretched on his fuzzy, lime green rug, getting absolutely no homework done. Laura was scribbling away in her biology notebook on top of Sean's bed. Laura always seemed to think she got the bed, and Sean always ended up on the floor. He didn't quite understand why, even in his own room, he couldn't have things his way, but Laura explained it like, "Sean, darling, once you stop being such a miserable pushover and learn to man up then maybe, yes, you will be deserving of some place to sit other than the floor. But until you can actually wrestle me off this bed, it's mine."<p>

That was friendship for you.

"Sean, I think you need to come to terms with your infatuation for Kevin Price."

"I- my WHAT?" Sean yelped.

"C'mon, boy. It's so obvious."

"Don't call me boy. You're not my mother, and you're not some gang member. And I'm not in love with Kevin-"

"_Woah,_ who said anything about being in love? I said, in-fa-tu-_a_-tion. Let's face it, Sean, you're obsessed. You talk about how much you hate him all the time -Lord knows why, he's the hottest guy at this godforsaken school and a three-sport varsity athlete-"

"Oh, _please_, debate does not count as a sport-"

"Whatever. He's super hot and really really nice to everyone and only you, Sean, actually hate him-"

"That's not true! Chris agrees with me-"

"Yeah, whatever. Point is, you pay him more attention than is healthy. And maybe you do genuinely hate him- I don't know, but my money's on no -and regardless, you spend too much time talking about him. It's not normal. You don't act like this for most people- everyone else you don't like, you manage to block out just fine. But Kevin? You never give him a break. So it's my opinion that there's something else goin' on here. Own up to it, Sean, you're thrilled about getting to be his debate partner."

"Ugh, Laura, you know what? No. No, I do not like Kevin. He's overly condescending, not even talented, and way too tall. He just wants you to think he's charming- see? You fell for it."

Laura laughed. "Denial. De-nie-ul. Don't think I'm giving up on this one Sean, cause I'm not. But for now, I need some help on this bio homework. And I also need you to tell me whether or not I was wrong for yelling at Mary Grace today because she can't look where she's going and her outfit was a disaster and she was completely unhelpful in history class and didn't even do her one small part of our group project. Except I only yelled at her for the last one."

"Good call, Laura. Your common sense is improving."

Laura rolled all the way off the bed to smack him.

* * *

><p>It was lunch on Friday when Nabulungi finally managed to corner Asmeret. "I need you to help me join the debate team."<p>

Asmeret's grin fell. "You mean they didn't let you on? I knew it! What a bunch of-"

Nabulungi interrupted her. "No, no. They said I could join. More accurately, they couldn't come up with a reason why for I couldn't, which was the best that I was going to get anyway. But they also said I needed to have a partner and I may have already... volunteered you. To do that for me. I'm so sorry! It was the only way they'd let me on and I just couldn't not and I know you'd be willing to do this for me because this is _really_ important and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't and I am sorry but now I need you to come to practice and be my debate partner."

Asmeret took in Nabulungi's clasped hands and pleading eyes. She sighed.

"What do I have to do?"

Nabulungi cheered. "Yay! I knew you'd say yes. You're the best! Thank you so much!" She kissed Asmeret on the forehead and spun off in the direction of the publications office.

"Nabulungi! Wait! What do I have to do?"

But Nabulungi had already skipped off, halfway to her school newspaper meeting.

"Just show up three times a week. Ever done policy before?"

Asmeret jumped; Sean McKinley had slid into the seat behind her.

"Uhh... pardon?"

Sean grinned. "Debate! We practice Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays in room 405 and yes, we expect you to work at home on the weekends. We go to tournaments a lot, every other Saturday or even every Saturday. We spend a good amount of our time ranking countries in terms of nuclear development. You don't have to do anything but cut arguments and binge on junk food. Nice to have you on the team, by the way."

"Umm... well, thanks! I guess."

"I'm Sean, by the way! Are you familiar with the world of policy debate?"

Asmeret laughed. "My best friend eats, sleeps, and breathes it. I'm semi-fluent in the language but I can't say I've ever done it."

Sean shrugged. "Not a problem. We'll get you started. Why don't you come by Monday after school?"

Asmeret looked him over. "I don't supposed I have anything better to do."

* * *

><p>Arnold Cunningham planned on being the first to arrive at practice that particular Monday. What he hadn't planned on was that new girl-Nabababa-whatever-showing him up. She was already rifling through a few Paradigm books on space exploration when he bounced into the room.<p>

Taking pity on the poor girl who thought to use _Paradigm_, Arnold decided to help her out. "Heh, uh, you don't want those books- they're uh, they're not that good! You'd be better off looking at, hey! Here, I can show you-"

Arnold crossed the room to the bookshelf and grabbed Nabulungi's wrist. It was kind of small and thin and bony and he realized a little bit too late that maybe he might have scared her and maybe his hand, which was kind of big and a little damp from afternoon gym class, probably didn't feel all that nice on top of her soft (what kind of cream was that?), mocha fingers and their pale purple nail polish.

He let go quickly. "I'm sorry! I'm a little- Oh, gosh, I didn't want to, uh, heh-well, I- hey, if you want to, uh, use our computers? The camp files should all be out. SDI usually has a good 4-week packet- that's where I went this summer- it's probably better than Paradigm, anyway."

Nabulungi gave him a small smile.

"Really? We used Paradigm a lot at my old school. Maybe that's why we never made it to a national tournament."

"Heh. Yeah. Maybe. What kind of school _was_ that, anyway?"

Nabulungi looked at him. "A good one."

"Oh. Yeah, of course. Right. Well, uh, maybe I can help you? Make sure you know what you're doing? We have a tournament next month, they've got a novice division- we need help, I can help you get ready, you know?"

"Thanks, but I've done this before."

"I- I- I know that! I just- I wanted to help, is all. I didn't- I- I mean, policy debate is _still_ confusing to me! And I have Kevin for a partner, and he's the best at everything. So, I just wanted to, you know, be nice and I, uh-"

Arnold trailed off; Nabulungi seemed to be assessing him for sincerity and it was making him nervous.

"I'm sorry," she began, "I guess- I thought, because, you know, your oh-so-_charming_ partner Kevin seemed kind of hesitant to even allow me to join- I'm sorry. I just- I don't want anyone to-to underestimate me, you know?"

Arnold wrinkled his forehead. "Why would people do that?"

Nabulungi gave a small laugh, but Arnold wasn't sure if it was genuine. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't really look like everyone else around here."

"Huh? Oh-ohhh. But that's- that's not- that's not right! I mean, being a girl is _awesome_! You get to run feminist Ks and judges are nice to you and oh my gosh this one time, Kevin and I went up against a team of two girls and one started crying in her rebuttal and so then judge gave them the win even though Kevin said we clearly won our impact calculus and Kevin knows this stuff and-"

Nabulungi cut him off with a glare. "You think that's a good thing?"

"Well, I dunno, winning's good, right?"

"You think I want to win because I can fake cry and make some judge feel sorry for me?"

Arnold shrugged. "Well, they never feel sorry for _me_. I wouldn't mind if they did cause I love to win!"

"Yeah, and I bet that's because you've never had to actually deal with this stuff. You know what my judges said to me last year? They said I should stop being so _pointed_ in cross-examination; it made me come off _rude_ and _bitchy_ and they took down my score for it. You know what happened when some boy started yelling at me in cross-ex? The judge wrote down on the ballot, "_way to not back down! Good job being assertive._" So guess what? It's just not that easy. I can't just- start crying and win for it. And I certainly can't _lose_ because then what would your precious debate partner think, having let me on this team? Then he'd feel responsible for me! And we couldn't have_ that_."

Arnold was a little bit shocked. He was also a little bit not too good at this sort of thing and he had only just managed to get out, "But I don't think that's true at all!" which probably would have gotten him in more trouble, except at that moment, Kevin Price strode through the door, Sean McKinley and Christopher Thomas on his heels.

Within the next few moments, the rest of the team filed in to the room. Sean broke out the goldfish, and the debate practice, as per usual, disintegrated into a mess of speed drills and a lot of arguing about the merits of a 2007 Kagan card that "no self-respecting debater should be reading in a debate round, ever." (-Kevin Price)

Arnold didn't try to speak to Nabulungi again. He didn't even look at her.

Which was too bad, because, if he had- he might have noticed the apology she was trying to send him with her eyes.

**A/N:** Yeah, sexism in policy debate is definitely a real issue. Thank you all for sticking with me, and I'd love your feeback!

Here's a mini-glossary, again:

Tub- a rather large bin to keep one's research in

To cut an argument- to find evidence/research online that can be formatted into an argument that proves your point (an argument in policy debate is not the same thing as making a point. Rather, it is telling a story. Usually, the story looks like this: 1) what's the situation right now 2) how your side/the other side will change that 3) what's the impact to the change (usually mass death))

Paradigm- a research company that produces books with evidence about the current debate topic

SDI- Spartan Debate Institute- The Michigan State Debate Camp.

Impact calculus- comes at the end of every round; each team weighs their impacts against each other using a checklist of magnitude, time frame, and probability.

Kagan- a foreign policy author who writes in favor of US foreign policy, and believes US dominance over the world is to everyone's benefit


	3. Chapter 3: Advantage One is Hegemony

**A/N:** Hi, guys, thank you so much for sticking with me! I promise the wait will not be as long for chapter 4.

On a personal note, I would like to indulge myself a second and share really quickly that for those you not following my personal debate saga on tumblr, my first tournament of this year ended in an awesome first place victory for my team. Which was more than a good feeling. So, let's spread the love and help out our poor policy debaters out because they've got a tournament to prepare for, too.

* * *

><p>"You know what," said Sean. "I think you're starting to get it!"<p>

The four novices hunched around the small cluster of desks beamed at each other, and the freshman girl offered her male companions high fives.

Sean smiled indulgently, trying to resist pointing out that understanding that a case went "inherency-plan-advantages-solvency" wasn't exactly a great feat. He idly wondered if the girl with the flouncy brown hair was only here because she was hoping Kevin might notice her. He wouldn't be surprised- he'd seen it happen once before- although if she was hoping to pick up guys, debate might not exactly be the best choice of club.

No, he shouldn't judge her that quickly. Just because she was glancing over her shoulder every thirty seconds at Kevin's group of novices didn't mean she- _face it, Sean. This group has no promise._

And it was true- though this girl might only be in here because_ ohmygod Kevin Price_ (_gag me_, thought Sean), at least she wasn't the boy sitting next to her, who had proudly told Sean he was pretty sure he could skip straight to varsity debate, no problem, because he "argued with his mom all the time."

Sean didn't like to curse, but seriously, what an asshole.

Varsity? And he didn't even know what a 2NR was? _Ha._

Sean doubted any of their newbies were going to stick past a few weeks this year. Except maybe that junior girl Nabulungi and her partner, who at least knew the difference between off case and on case and seemed... dare he say it? Smart. Dedicated.

That was good. They could use some debaters for next year when he, Chris, Kevin, and Arnold graduated.

Some dedicated debaters, it seemed, were not to be found encircling Kevin Price. Kevin's sighs of exasperation and obvious eye rolls were on the verge of becoming temper tantrums and really, it wouldn't be healthy to leave him alone with the utterly undisciplined ninth graders.

So Sean sighed, excused himself from his novices, and dragged Kevin away from the group and into the hallway by his collar.

"_What_, Sean?"

"Hey, Kevin, cool it. You're scaring the new recruits."

"Okay, then, you try teaching these kids about how a 1AC works when they interrupt you every five seconds with yet another "_but won't developing satellites be expensive_?" comment."

Sean smirked. "I already did. My novvies can tell you the difference between inherency and solvency, and they can trounce your novvies any day."

"Sean, I'm pretty sure your novvies, who've had an hour of policy debate experience in their lives, have no idea what they're doing."

"Yeah, but at least they can write a plan text. Suck it, Kevin."

Kevin rolled his eyes and said, with dripping politeness, "If you don't mind, I'm actually going to get back to the people I volunteered to teach right now because I want them to be successful and I don't leave them unattended in order to yell at innocent people who are only trying to do help their community and debate team."

"I wasn't _yelling_."

"Whatever, Sean, alright- please. Just- try to find some people who will actually stay this year, okay?"

"How about that Nabulungi girl?"

"Yeah, and in-how many years have we been at this school?-in that many years, when have we once found a girl who actually joined this team for any reason other than _ooh Kevin captain of the basketball team I love your arms_? "

"Wow, Kevin, your planetary-sized head aside, that was remarkably sexist."

Kevin shrugged. "I'm not saying Nabulungi is one of these girls. I'm just saying- in the past- you can't deny this- that is what has happened."

"Kevin, we've had _maybe_ one girl walk in our doors before this year. The fact that three have shown up already is a miracle. So your judging them is immature, offensive, and just another way for you to massage your overly large ego."

Kevin, who often found himself without words beside Sean, settled instead for staring him down.

"You look ridiculous, Kevin. Please do not make that face at me. You look like somebody just stole your pacifier."

"Are you calling me a child?"

"No, I'm calling you a baby. Now, my novices need me."

Kevin found himself staring at Sean's retreating form for a good 30 seconds before he remembered how to start walking.

* * *

><p>Nabulungi, as it turned out, took the same bus as Arnold.<p>

Arnold, as it turned out, wasn't at all upset the first time he saw his new debate friend dropping her bus fare in the slot.

"Hey! Heyy! _Hey_, Nagabuli! I mean- Naba- Yeah! Hey! C'mere! You can sit here!"

Nabulungi looked around, her curls bobbing. Her cheeks were quickly darkening, her eyes, slightly panicked.

Oblivious, Arnold continued to bounce up and down, waving his hand. Nabulungi, eyes on the ground, rushed over to join him, in hopes that maybe he'd stop making a scene.

Though- she had to admit- she felt kind of flattered.

"It's Na-ba-lun-gi," she said patiently.

"Oh! Right! I can't believe I forgot! Nabulungi! It's such a pretty name! It goes with your hair. Your hair is so pretty! Like your name."

Nabulungi bit her lip, but from pleasure this time. "Thank you. It's too bad no one can pronounce it."

Embarrassed, Arnold defended himself. "Heh, yeah, well, I'm sorry about that. it's just that I'm, like, really really bad with names! One time, I forgot my cousin's name. At her birthday, too, she was really mad and I bought her an extra present to make up for it. It was a Star Wars T-shirt, and I think I liked it more than she did." He looked thoughtful.

Nabulungi giggled. "Well, if it were me, I would have appreciated it."

Arnold, drinking in her last comment, looked at her as if she had just given him an invitation to speak at Comic Con. "Wow! You know Star Wars? But you're a- a- a _girl_."

Nabulungi smiled ruefully. "Yep. Sure am. Don't worry about it, it happens. And it's okay about my name- trust me, I've put up with worse. Where are you going, anyway?"

Arnold looked sheepishly down at his muddy shoes. "Clarinet lesson."

"You play- aww, _that_ is amazing."

"Really? You think so?"

"Yeah, I do."

Arnold beamed at her. "Kevin teases me about it sometimes, but I don't think he really means it."

"If he does, that's silly. I'd love to hear you play sometime."

Wow- a beautiful girl who wanted to hear_ his_ clarinet. Arnold hadn't quite ever been in this situation before, he didn't think.

"We could duet!"

"Umm... I don't play any instruments," Nabulungi said, almost as a question.

"That's okay! I'll teach you!" Arnold was enthralled.

Nabulungi grinned despite herself. He was so eager, she couldn't shoot him down. "Yeah, maybe some other time. This is my stop. See you tomorrow, Arnold."

"Oh! Yeah! At debate practice! We have that! Okay! Yeah!"

"Have fun playing the clarinet, too."

"I will!" Arnold's smile, an aftereffect of the conversation, lasted a good three minutes and two stops longer, until he finally remembered how angry his teacher would be at him- he hadn't practiced all week.

* * *

><p>Kevin slid off his backpack as soon as he walked in the door to his empty house. Parents weren't home? Nothing new there. Immediately, he pulled open the cabinet drawers, rooting around for an energy bar. His phone buzzed in his pocket.<p>

"Hey?"

"Hey! Kevin!"

"Oh, hi there, Arnold, what's up?"

"I was just calling you wish you luck. A lot of luck! Good luck Kevin! And Sean! Good luck to Kevin and Sean!"

"...huh? Oh! You mean at the tournament Friday. Thanks, pal!"

"Yeah! Sure! When are you leaving? Are you coming to school tomorrow? Are you gonna be in third period? We have that project thingy-"

"Yeah, yeah, third period. I'll be there- yeah. No, definitely. We're leaving after lunch. It's going to be_ such_ a long drive. Just me, and Sean, and Mrs. B. So that's gonna be- not much fun. Promise me you'll text me, okay? I don't want to be stuck having to talk to Sean. He'll probably make me practice offensive K theory blocks- Sean's so uptight. Seriously. I mean, do you think he can talk about things that aren't intrinsic government hierarchy for half a second? He's the _definition_ of a K debater. Did you know he actually stood up and told our Government class today that he thought any sort of protest on a large scale was ultimately inefficient because the state will inevitably co-opt our criticism? Yeah. He said those words. Outside of a debate round. Honestly, Arnold, have I ever mentioned how easy you are to have as a partner?"

Kevin was pacing his small kitchen now, piling fruit and yogurt on the counter, his phone pressed against his ear as he turned on the blender. Forget the energy bar; tonight, he needed a smoothie.

(Or something much stronger.)

Yeah- not happening. But tonight, on the eve of the most stressful debate tournament yet, Kevin needed to do_ something_.

"Arnold? You still there?"

"Yeah?"

"How much homework do you have tonight?"

"I have a math test tomorrow- but that's nothing! What do you need? I can write you blocks to the weaponization disad! I can cut you updated politics updates!"

"Oh, Arnold, no, thanks- I was just wondering if you could come over tonight. I'm really worried about this tournament- I was just going to- oh, goodness, I know you're not a fan, but could you come over and watch Disney movies with me? I'll make you dinner and everything. My parents aren't home tonight. I'm just really tired and worried and I'm not looking forward to this, and I can't shake this feeling it's going to go terribly and-"

"Really? I mean- yeah! Sure! Of course I will, Kevin! I'll- I'll be there right as soon as I can! You're gonna be amazing on Friday. Don't worry- we can even watch- anything you want! I'll be there! See you soon. Bye!"

Arnold was flustered as he hung up the phone. To tell the truth, he was extremely glad it was Kevin and not him who would be carrying those tubs and scribbling abbreviations on those flow sheets Friday. Besides- Arnold didn't want to say it, but he was almost really not even doubtful pretty close to positive that underneath Kevin's ranting and complaining, he heard a note of eagerness in his voice- Kevin wanted to be going to this tournament with Sean.

A lot.

Arnold didn't quite know how he felt about that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Next chapter is the tournament!

Here's your mini-glossary of the chapter!

inherency- the status quo; what's going on right now

plan- what the affirmative team is advocating under the resolution. (Example: if the resolution was "resolved: the United States Federal Government should take

substantial steps to ensure Elder Price's happiness," you could run a plan text that would be, "thus, the plan: the United States Federal Government should fully fund Elder Price's vacation to Orlando." Or, your plan text could be, "the USFG should lock Elder Price in a room with Elder McKinley." Your choice.)

advantages- why your plan is good, and the terrible things that will happen if we don't pass your plan (for example: global warming, economic crisis)

solvency- why your plan solves the terrible things mentioned in the advantages

off case- arguments the negative team runs that are either disadvantages, kritiks, topicalities, or counterplans.

on case- arguments the negative team runs that directly clash with the aff (rather than having their own argument structure)- these arguments tend to answer advantages or solvency

offensive k theory blocks- an outline of theory arguments you would make against a kritik (philosophical argument). a theory argument is an argument about what types or arguments are better than others, in terms of education and fairness

weaponization da- using space for military purposes is bad

politics updates- politics das (an argument that says, your plan is unpopular and passing it will lead to other, important bills not being able to be passed) are usually won on whose cards are most recent

flow sheets- paper to take notes on

Reviews are always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4: First off is the politics DA

**A/N**: So I know I call this the Wake Forest tournament, but I actually did a lot to make sure this has no resemblance to that tournament in real life. Except the number of out rounds- those are the same. Also, thank you all, as always, for sticking with me. This chapter is for Lila, who hasn't gotten one yet and deserves it for being one of the three greatest people I know.

* * *

><p>Sean drummed his fingers against the chipped wood of the cafeteria table. In front of him sat an untouched plate of lasagna (with that awful canned tomato sauce), to his right was an overflowing, close to toppling pile of tubs, and across from him, his perfectly gelled hair in his hands, sat Kevin Price.<p>

Sean was staring past Kevin, at the "Free biology tutoring!" posters decorating the grimy walls. His hands were getting clammy.

"It's 7:15. Where are the pairings?"

Kevin looked up. "I don't know, Sean. This can't be the first time you've been to a tournament that ran late, right?"

Sean shrugged. "Do you think we broke?"

"I dunno. We went 4-2... I'd say we have a shot at least."

"We should have won that fourth round. They voted us down on cede the political."

"That's a legitimate argument, Sean. And you shouldn't have gone for the K."

"You're such a policy hack."

"At least the policy strategy wouldn't have lost us fourth round."

"We shouldn't have lost anyway- we were better than them."

"We were."

Sean twisted his fingers together. "Do we have a strategy against the space commons aff?"

"You? Sean? Are asking for a strategy?"

"Besides the K. And also- which K."

"Topicality?"

"Maybe. But we need more than that."

Sean's finger drumming was interrupted by the whine of a microphone. When he looked up, he saw a paunchy, bearded man on stage, holding a pile of papers.

"Excuse me? Ladies and gentlemen? If I could have your attention? Hey- Hamilton! You- Ryan- quiet down. Shut _up_. Thank you."  
>The tournament director, who was also the Hamilton coach, seemed to think that making fun of his own kids would make everyone else relax a little more, and consequently, like him better.<br>(He was wrong.)

"Now that Ryan has kindly consented to shut his moth and listen to me speak, I can tell you what you all want to hear- who broke to elims!"

A few of the debaters cheered. Sean's stomach clenched. He'd been to dozens of tournaments, and it didn't matter- those few seconds before the reveal made him sick every single time.

The Hamilton coach seemed intent on prolonging his agony.

"Now, before I release the pairings, I just want to say- Since we've run into several unrelated scheduling problems at this tournament, we're running a bit late. So! Do not fear- we'll be holding quarter-finals tonight, right as soon as you find out whether or not you broke. Then, we'll break for the night- you can leave your tubs here, in Room 114, and we'll start back up again promptly at 9:30 tomorrow morning. Judges- keep your critiques short! It's late, and I haven't had dinner yet. Schematics for semis will be online tonight at 10:30 or so- I trust you're all following us on twitter? We're WFTournarnament2011. I know- it's the hip thing to do. Pairings will be posted there and on our website, and on paper at 9 AM tomorrow. Teams will be flipping for aff and neg unless you've faced each other thus far- but you all know the rules! Alright! We won't hold you in anticipation any longer. Good luck, guys! Here are your out round pairings!

With a flourish, the director waved around a stack of papers, stepped off the stage, and was promptly swarmed by a bunch of high schoolers.

Sean glanced across the table at Kevin, who was looking at his hands.

""I guess- uh- I'll go get them?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Right, then, I'll be right back."

Sean disentangled himself from the table's legs and adjusted his navy blue suit jacket.  
>The horde of high schoolers was only growing larger- Sean thought that maybe posting the pairings in various locations across the room might have been more time-effective. But handing out sheets of paper didn't take long, and Sean soon found himself at the front of the group. He took the paper he was handed, mumbling a quick "thank you" as he stepped out of the crowd to read it.<p>

There were eight teams printed on the list. And, at the very bottom, Sean saw (in 12-point Times New Roman):  
><strong>Coolidge RY - MTC Prep MP (flip) 216 Ryder Bergman Morrow<strong>

Sean grinned. Then he beamed. Then he laughed. Then he ran all the way back to Kevin, sitting alone at the end of the cafeteria table.  
>Sean slid into the seat next to his partner.<p>

"Kevin!"

"Yeah?"

"Kevin, we broke!"

Kevin looked up from the cracks on the table he had been studying.  
>"We did? Wait- we broke?"<p>

He didn't get an answer. Instead, he got another pair of lips on his own- Sean had leaned in and kissed him in his own excitement. Kissed him hard.

"We broke!"

Kevin blinked once- twice- and then slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"Well," he said. "Coolidge, huh? Let's start prepping."

* * *

><p>Kevin Price was not one to get distracted in the middle of a debate round. Not now, not ever.<br>(He was so good at keeping focus he had managed to convince himself "aff representations are true; our authors are experts" could be straight-turned and counted among the reasons that the ballot must go negative because of the K.)  
>But Kevin Price had never had so much trouble concentrating on a debate round before.<p>

They had lost the flip, and were going aff. That didn't bother Kevin- he liked the 2AR- but Sean was grinding his teeth a bit. Kevin hated 2Ns sometimes. They were so convinced their partner wasn't capable of winning a debate on their own.

But not this 2N. Kevin didn't hate this 2N. This 2N, who had just kissed him... His stomach flopped. He wished the round would hurry up, get started, and be over already. He and Sean had things to do... or to discuss, at any rate.

It was a good thing Kevin had the 1AC pre-flowed, because he found himself unable to concentrate on anything but Sean's lips, moving at a lightening speed as they spit out sentence after sentence about resource wars and soft power.

Kevin squirmed, forcing himself to pay attention. But it was apparent from the first cross-ex that this would not be too tough a round to win.

And indeed, 90 minutes later as the judges revealed their ballots to be a 3-0 decision for the affirmative, Kevin felt himself relax. His inability to concentrate had not ruined everything- he and Sean were going to _semis_.

They packed up their papers- the other team was paperless, so they left first- and and found themselves the last to leave the room.

Sean wouldn't look at Kevin.

"Hey, so, uh? I'll, uh, go put these tubs away, okay? And will you meet me out front? We can go get some dinner?" Kevin, who had waited almost two hours for this moment (not to mention the last three years), suddenly didn't not how to talk to Sean.

"Sure," Sean shrugged. "See you in a few."

Kevin nodded, balancing the tubs under a makeshift tray made from his arms, and headed out of the room. As soon as his back was to Sean, he found himself grinning. Never mind Sean's bizarre lack of eye contact these past fifteen minutes, or his stiffness in the round whenever Kevin had jumped in during cross-ex, or his lack of enthusiasm at their hasty dinner plans. Maybe Sean was just planning something. He had, after all, kissed him!

But as Kevin returned to the building's lobby, it turned out he had very much cause for alarm indeed. Sean walked out the door as soon as he saw Kevin approaching, made sure he was within following distance, and refused to turn around as he led Kevin back to their hotel.

"Sean? I thought we were going to get dinner? Aren't you hungry?"

"No." Sean didn't look at him.

"Where are we going?"

"To the hotel."

"Sean?"

"What?"

"Will you talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Don't give me that, Sean- please-"

Sean didn't say anything. Kevin felt utterly deflated. How could something so right turn off at the exact wrong exit? He had_ thought_-

The hotel, only a few blocks away, swam into view sooner than Sean had hoped.  
>He strode through the revolving door, across the carpet, and to the elevators, all with his back adamantly to Kevin.<p>

"Sean- I- I don't understand. We won! Can't you at least be happy about that? We're going to semis!"

"Yeah, well, congratulations to us," Sean said drily.

They were on the elevator now, headed up to the eighth floor. Sean fished in his pocket for a key. Kevin sighed in exasperation.

"I don't get it!" He was on the verge of stamping his foot in frustration- you weren't allowed to just kiss someone and then give them the silent treatment.

(Well, apparently Sean thought he could.)

Sean didn't say anything as the doors opened, spilling the two boys onto their well-lit beige floor. He had already started down the hallway when Kevin grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, ignoring Sean's attempts to shake him off.

"Sean McKinley, you look at me!"

"_What_?" The word was biting, but underneath, slightly vulnerable.

"Can we talk about what just happened?"

"We won quarters." Sean's voice was flat.

"_No_, Sean, the other thing that just happened."

"What other thing?"

"The part where you kissed me."

Sean went very red.

"Look, Kevin- can we just- I'm willing to forget about it if you will. I didn't mean to- I don't know what came over me- I know you're going to go home and laugh with all your basketball friend about how that little homo Sean tried to kiss you- but I'd really rather you didn't, okay? I don't need my life to be any more miserable than it already is. So if you could please just _forget_ what happened- we never have to talk about it again- Kevin, I'm really sorry. It was my fault, and I was being stupid and not thinking straight, and I'd really rather we just debate tomorrow and pretend it never-"

Kevin, utterly bewildered, cut Sean off with another kiss.

If possible, Sean looked even more flustered and indignant. And this time, the flash behind his eyes was not so much pleading but- anger.

"What, one kiss wasn't enough for you? Not a good enough story? Fine, Kevin. You have to go home and tell everyone you broke my heart as well? Okay. Do it. I don't care. I don't_ care_ about you and your stupid friends who find some excuse to steal my homework right out of the tray, erase my name, and replace it with _faggot_- I don't _care_ about those boys you hang out with who have never once seen me in the halls and not coughed some stupid joke about "Shauna" or "would I like to be this person or that person's girlfriend"- I don't _care_. Have your fun, and I'm sorry I was ever stupid enough to kiss you in the first place. And now you have to rub it in. _Nice one_, Kevin."

Kevin Price, utterly at a loss for words and general human reaction, took a deep breath to steady himself and finally managed to say, "Sean? I- I think you have it all wrong. See, the thing is- I just kissed you because I _like_ you."

"What?" Sean had been saying that a lot lately.

"I would never, ever go home and laugh at you because you kissed me. If anything- that's something to brag about. Sean, I- you kissing me was as much of a miracle this stupid small town could have ever given me. And I would never, ever, ever go home and make your life hell about it. I would probably go home and wait the rest of my high school life for it to happen again."

"What?"

"I thought that when you kissed me, it meant you liked me too. But I guess I was wrong. I guess it was just an in the moment thing." Kevin bowed his head to the ground in hopes of concealing the almost-tears in his eyes. It was a good thing Sean couldn't see his face- he looked a bit like a kicked puppy.  
>"But, uh-" and it took all of Kevin's willpower to make this promise without bursting into tears- "I- okay. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our secret. It's a really good secret, and it's the best secret you could give me, and I'm never going to stop wanting-"<p>

"Oh, stop being so over-dramatic," Sean snapped. "Where on Earth did you infer that part about me not liking you back?"

"I- uh, I thought you said- you didn't know what came over you? You said-"

"Oh," said Sean. "Well, I didn't mean it."

Kevin looked at him for a second. "So-"

Sean looked up at him. There was almost a hint of a smile on Kevin's face. Sean covered his mouth with his hand so Kevin wouldn't see the grin he was hiding, which was growing to be probably bright enough to power all of the Hamilton teams' laptops.

"So, uh," Sean began, "I guess I'm not sorry I kissed you any more, and if you'd like, I'd be happy to do it again."

"Okay," said Kevin. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

Sean didn't move. "I like you too, Kevin Price. A whole heck of a lot."

Kevin beamed. Then he leaned down and claimed that promised third kiss.

"You sure you're not hungry?" Kevin added after they broke apart.

"No, I am. I didn't really mean that either."

"Good," Kevin grinned, "because I'm starving."

"It's kind of late," Sean said doubtfully, "and I'm kind of tired."

"Room service?"

"Alright."

* * *

><p>Back in their hotel room, Kevin rummaged through the desk drawers, looking for the binder of hotel information that contained the room service menu, while Sean flipped through the channels on the TV, finally settling on a documentary about the American prison system.<p>

"But that's so boring," Kevin said.

Sean glared at him. (His cheeks were still pink.)

"Fine, sorry. Whatever. Here's the menu."

Kevin made the call (he decided to charge the food to the room and hope Ms. B wouldn't notice) while Sean begrudgingly looked for something else to watch.

"Say Yes to the Dress," he said. "To celebrate us coming out to each other."

Kevin gave him a "you've got to be kidding me you we just kissed and now you're talking about weddings" look but didn't say anything because he kind of loved Say Yes to the Dress. Especially the Atlanta one. Southern brides were so sassy.

The food came a little bit later- one macaroni and cheese, one arugula salad with cranberries and walnuts and a side of french fries. It came on little trays, too, with silver coverings. How classy.

Kevin moved to hand Sean his dinner, and Sean glared at him. "Not on my bed."

"Is that like 'not on my watch'? Not on my bed?"

"Oh, yeah, comparing east African genocides to french fries. Real smooth there, Kevin. You would make a great K debater."

Kevin shrugged, and rearranged the furniture so the desk and two chairs in the corner were now in the middle of the room, and then, with an extended hand, Kevin invited Sean to join him.

They ate in relative silence, making the casual remark about Hollis's terrible taste in dresses or how insufferable Hannah's mother was being. It was a bit awkward- neither of them quite knew what to do.

They ended up smiling at each other a lot when they were sure the other wasn't looking.

"I can go check the semi pairings?" Sean offered. "They should be up by now."

"Leave it," said Kevin. "We'll find out in the morning."

"We could be prepping tonight- everyone else will-"

Kevin shrugged. "Everyone else isn't sharing a room with Sean McKinley." Sean blushed.

"Okay, then. I'm uh- I'll go put these plates outside. Are you finished?"

Kevin nodded. "Do you mind if I go wash up?"

"Go for it."

So Kevin went into the bathroom as Sean rearranged the pillows on his bed, barely able to contain his smile, and unable to stop humming to himself.

Kevin re-emerged a moment later (Sean had noticed that tank top for pajamas last night, but felt it was okay for him to look a little more closely now) and Sean brushed past him into the bathroom.

Kevin surveyed the room for a second before flopping down on Sean's bed. He sprawled over the comforter and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Sean came out of the bathroom- Lord, somebody hold Kevin, he was wearing _glasses_- a few minutes later.

"Kevin."

"What?"

"Get out of my bed."

"I didn't know you wore contacts."

"I was wearing glasses _last night_."

"Oh. I guess you were. I didn't notice."

Sean rolled his eyes.

"They're nice glasses. Very cute."

"Thank you. Please get out of my bed."

"Nope." Kevin patted the space next to him invitingly. "But you can join me."

Sean sighed, then climbed into bed next to him.

"What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you!"

Sean's lips quirked a little. "Okay. About what?"

"Sean, we're going to semis! Isn't that awesome?"

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome."

"It would be really, really awesome if we won the whole tournament."

"It sure would be."

"That's not really what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I didn't think so."

"I kind of wanted to tell you- how much I like you and how happy I am that you feel the same way cause I never thought you'd like me back. You were always making fun of me or whatever- so it's kind of nice how, you know, we both like each other. And I was wondering if- uh- maybe you wanted to be my boyfriend?"

"Sure," Sean grinned. "I might want that. I mean- I do want that."

Kevin reached across the space between them on the bed to rub Sean's arm.

"Yeah," he continued. "So, like I was saying- uh- I- I think you're crazy smart and really beautiful and did you know I fell in love with you back in sophomore year- that first time you placed higher at a debate tournament than me and you didn't shut up about it? And then, that year when you came to our first basketball game to write an article about it for the paper and we won that game, even though we were up against the best team in the city- well, this is going to sound really dumb but I'm sure I was playing better because you were watching. And mostly I just really think you're the coolest person I know- sorry- I'm babbling-"

"Kevin, was that speech improvised?"

"Yes. I just really really think you're amazing and-"

"Look, Kevin, that's really sweet and all but just because I kissed you doesn't mean you have to be nice to me. In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't. You're kind of weirding me out right now."

"Huh?"

"All I'm saying is- we've spent the last three years of our lives trying to one-up each other and that doesn't have to stop now- you don't have to turn into a sap just because I said I liked you- I don't need that. I'm not delicate."

Kevin looked confused. "But I want to be nice to you. I like you, and I do think you're amazing, and I want you to know that."

"Oh," said Sean. "Well, uh- as long as you're not doing it out of noble boyfriend obligations, I guess that's fine. Carry on then. I mean- you can be my totally whipped boyfriend, I don't mind."

Kevin inched closer until his face was almost touching Sean's.

"I kind of am a sap."

"And I'm kind of okay with that, strangely enough."

Kevin leaned in so their foreheads were pressed together.

"We're going to be the most amazing debaters tomorrow."

"We're going to win." Sean added.

"Yes."

"Even though we didn't prep at all tonight."

"Even though."

"But it's getting kind of late so maybe we should go to sleep."

"Not yet."

"Kevin..."

Kevin rose from the bed so he was now sitting up, leaning over Sean. He didn't show any signs of wanting to go anywhere. Sean gave him a slight shove.

"I'm going to bed now."

"No, you're not."

"Yeah, I actually am. So please get off my bed."

Kevin grinned, then latched his leg over Sean's waist and settled down on his waist, straddling him.

"Kevin!"

Kevin leaned down to kiss him. Sean met his lips with poorly disguised wanting.

So Kevin pushed his luck, and he kissed him again.

"Kevin, please get off my bed. No, seriously- _mmph_! I mean it- it's late and we've got rounds tomorrow and-"

Kevin grinned and leaned down again. Sean turned his face to the side so Kevin ended up kissing his cheek.

"Go to bed."

"No. This is fun."

"Yeah, it is, but you're in my bed and I don't want you in my bed so now you get out of my bed."

Kevin looked at him a moment. "Last one?"

"Okay."

So Kevin kissed him for real, and slid off Sean, and then off the bed, and moved to turn out the lamp lying on the table between their beds.

"Kevin?"

"Yeah?"

"I really, really _do_ like you. And I'm sorry if it doesn't seem like that because I'm not so nice to you- I guess I have to deal with a lot of-"

"It's okay, Sean. You being mean got me to like you in the first place, right?"

"I guess so."

"I think we're going to be just fine, the two of us."

"I do too."

Kevin turned out the light, then moved back over to Sean's bed. He ruffled Sean's hair for a moment, then bent down to kiss his forehead. "Night, Sean."

"Night, Kevin. See you in the morning."

"Do you want me to set a wake-up call?"

"Sure."

"How does 7:00 sound?"

"Sounds good."

The last thing Sean heard before sleep pulled him under was the sound of Kevin's voice talking to the front desk on their hotel room phone.

* * *

><p>Kevin found out at 7:30 AM that Sean was much better at mornings than he was. By the time he had extricated himself from the heavy blankets and stumbled into the shower, Sean had already washed, dressed, and gone downstairs to meet their coach for breakfast. Kevin hurried along, stuffing his hotel key in his pocket as he jogged down the hall.<p>

Sean was sitting on a low-backed, rather ugly chair, eating a bowl of cornflakes. He had an empty muffin wrapper next to him, and an empty-headed (but well-meaning) coach on his left side. Kevin didn't understand how Sean ate breakfast before tournaments. He always felt he was more thank likely to be sick as it was, and he didn't need to eat to make that problem worse.

Kevin grabbed an orange juice from the continental breakfast spread and sat down across from Sean and next to Ms. B.

"Good morning, Kevin!" their coach chirped. "Sean and I were just discussing if you two are going to flip aff or neg this morning. Sean says he wants to flip neg-"

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Sean, I am not going to give yet another breathtakingly perfect 1NR just for you to spend your 2NR going for the K you extended in the 2NC."

Sean pouted. "But- at least, if we go neg, there's a halfway chance we can surprise Hamilton- that's who were debating, I checked- they probably already know what our aff is because we hit a different Hamilton team in round 2, and we were aff."

Kevin opened his mouth the protest against the domineering injustices of 2Ns inflicted on 2As everywhere but then, he caught Sean's eye.

In a second, both of them seemed to remember exactly what had happened last night.

"Fine," said Kevin. "We'll flip for neg. But let's not go for the K, okay?"

Sean shrugged. "I guess that's fair. Unless they drop the K-"

"Yeah," said Kevin. "We'll go for whatever we're winning."

* * *

><p>They ended up losing semi-finals as negative, but that was okay, as Sean pointed out, because the team was legitimately better than them, and went on to win the whole tournament, and thus probably could have beaten them even if they were aff. Kevin was slightly disappointed his only round he would probably ever debate with a boy he called his boyfriend ended in a loss, but hey- at least they got one ballot, and at least they had the rest of the day off.<p>

So they collected their plaques and their tubs, and wandered back to the car they had drove down to the tournament in.

Sean placed the tubs in the middle row of seats of the SUV before climbing into the back row and Kevin, giving him a perplexed look, followed suit.

"You boys wouldn't be more comfortable up front?" their coach asked.

"We're fine," said Sean quickly. "I think our tubs are bigger than us, anyway!" And he laughed nervously.

As Kevin soon found out, the real reason Sean wanted to sit in the back was it offered him a very nice opportunity to fall asleep, unnoticed by their coach, on Kevin's shoulder on the ride home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Wow, that was kind of long. All the stuff is fun stuff from here on out! As always, please leave me a review or your thoughts, or something- it really means a lot to me!

**Glossary:**

voted us down: the judge voted against us

cede the political: an anti-K argument that says we must work through the state, even if it's corrupt (a lot of Ks say the state is corrupt), because otherwise the people who take over will be even more corrupt

space commons: an affirmative case that supports international cooperation in space, and solves all your impacts ever

elims: elimination rounds (basically, the playoffs of debate)

to break: to do well enough that you made it to the elims

flip for aff/neg: in elims, what most tournaments do is, if two teams are facing each other who haven't yet faced each other this tournament, they flip a coin to see who will go aff and neg. If you win the flip, you get to decide which side you want.

out round: an elimination round

straight turn- to read the argument that the other team's argument is actually a reason to vote for you

aff representations are true; our authors are experts: an aff argument against a security K (defined in chapter 1 glossary!) that says that the judge should prefer the affirmative team's evidence of threats to the negative team's blanket statement that threats don't exist because the aff team has evidence from people who are security experts. As Kevin is not a K fan, and this is an anti-K argument, he would clearly be a fan of it. So, convincing himself that it's actually a pro-K argument would be quite a feat.

2N: the speaker who is the second negative

soft power: how much influence a country has

pre-flowed: already has notes on

paperless teams: teams that only use laptops (each team has to have 3 laptops)

And there you go!


	5. Chapter 5: We'll go on case on Solvency

**A/N:** Hey! It's me again. I don't really have anything to say except my apologies for the wait. I'm here. Really.

For Amelia, who is infinitely patient.

* * *

><p>It is two weeks later that Sean offers to host debate practice in his basement. The novices have their first tournament next Saturday, and after rifling through a few of their files and discovering that the politics DAs were missing links, Sean was dismayed to realize this team he helped coach was woefully unprepared.<p>

"Kevin, you need to fix this."

"Why do I need to fix this?"

"Because you're the captain."

"Okay, I fix this by making you my secretary in charge of getting novices prepared for this tournament."

"Thanks, Kevin. That's real leadership you're showing there."

"And you're fantastic at moral support, Sean."

"I'm not you first lady, Kevin, jeez. My job isn't moral support."

Kevin sighed. "How bad is it?"

"Well, Nabulungi and Asmeret are actually in great shape. No surprise there. I think they could take first, easily. Everyone else... you know Alex Davis and Sam Neeley? They could use a bit of help. And that's putting it nicely. Apparently Ms. B told them counterplans had to be non-topical."

"Ouch."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, are you sure I can't put you in charge of novice prep?"

"Hmm."

"Is that a yes?"

"Only because I really, really like you. I volunteer to host a novice prep session in my basement on Friday. But you have to promise me that you'll make the whole team's attendance mandatory."

"Thanks, Sean. You're a lifesaver. We have this Friday off, right?"

"Yep. Make it for 11 AM. We'll do flowing drills and practice debates and the usual."

"Excellent. I'm promoting you."

"To what?"

"To my vice president."

"I'll take it, but I'd rather be your co-dictator."

"That much unchecked power in the hands of a ruthless, fear-mongering debater like yourself? I think no."

"It wouldn't be unchecked. We would be co-dictators, remember?"

"Right. Still, no. Hang on a second-"

"Sure."

Kevin turned out to face the team at large, all of whom seemed to be scurrying to grab the remaining oreos.

"Hey. Guys. Listen up. Hey. Cool. Fine, James, turn the other way. This is your captain speaking. We'll be landing shortly- thank you. So, as you all know, our first local tournament is this Saturday, and we've got six teams registered, which is great. But it's also the first tournament for two of our teams, and the rest of us certainly could use a refresher. So we're having a mandatory team practice at 11 on Friday at Sean's house. Okay? Okay. Good."

There were the predictable groans.

"How mandatory is mandatory?" Chris griped.

"For you? Double mandatory," Kevin answered.

"I've got a soccer game at three," Chris added

"Fine. But you can be there until three. Wonderful. Get back to work, guys. Saturday is not that far away."

"Wait a moment," Nabulungi said. "Until three? How long is this practice supposed to go?"

Kevin looked at Sean. Sean shrugged. "Say until five thirty."

"Like, four or five, probably," Kevin said, addressing the group again.

"Pushover."

"Six hours is a whole lot of time."

"Not when you spend the first three looking up cats on youtube or giving me a dramatic reading of Gene Ray's time cube theory."

"I don't want to work them to death. Besides, I have a life when we don't have school, you know."

"Well, so do I. But novices don't get lives until they can tell me the three statuses of a counterplan. They don't deserve them."

"And that, right there, is why you're not team captain. Let's go get those relations uniqueness updates cut, huh?"

"Aye, aye, captain." Sean clapped his hands. "Hey, yo, novvies. Let's get going here."

* * *

><p>Sean wished it weren't so rainy out. Thank goodness whomever was looking out for him had given his school the good sense to give seniors off-campus lunch. It was only a month into the school year and he had already racked up enough Starbucks receipts to paper each of his notebooks.<br>The school campus wasn't exactly Sean's favorite place to hang out, so any time he got permission to leave, he was gone. (And in Sean's mind, having a substitute teacher was permission enough.)  
>He would have even weathered the depressing rain just to get out of these oppressive halls but his normal partner in overly-expensive coffee crime, Laura, flat out refused to leave the building.<br>"I just did my hair this morning, Sean," she whined. "And I don't have an umbrella."  
>"You can borrow my hoodie," he said flatly, but she just shook her head. "Come on, Sean, I'm tired, and an extra hour inside won't kill you."<p>

That was how Sean ended up aimlessly wandering the building, his arm linked in Laura's. He had told her at least three times to find him a quiet corner so he could sit and do his history homework, but she had told him those notes weren't due for another two classes, and the least he could do was oblige her, because he made her spend ridiculous amounts of money on coffee and banana bread every day. Sean then pointed out that he was hungry, which Laura swiftly countered by telling him he hadn't brought a lunch.

That brought Sean back to his original point about going off-campus but Laura was still decidedly uninterested.

It was about this time when Sean started to wonder how much he hated himself that his best friend and his sort-of mostly boyfriend thought it was okay to treat him like this.

And then he realized where Laura was dragging him. Really and truly, his self-loathing must be off the charts to be friends with a person like this- they were headed towards the gym.

Sean had not once had a good experience in his school's gym. Not once. It wasn't just that every physical education class he had been forced to take was an absolutely horrendous, straight-from-the-movies experience that was enough to make him consider running away to Iran. It was also every pep rally, every assembly, every orientation- every time he had been expected to show school pride and congregate in the center of a large group of people who didn't exactly like him, it seemed to come back to this gym.

Not to mention the people who hung out in the gym at lunch were not the people Sean- oh.

Either Laura really, really hated Sean, or she was really, really suspicious about why he had been walking home with Kevin Price yesterday. Sean had thought he had got her to drop that.

But clearly not, because Laura was leading Sean right to the bleachers, center-court, exactly perpendicular to where Kevin Price was bobbing up and down, hands on his knees, as he watched his basketball team friend sink a three-pointer. At the basket, Kevin straightened up, grinned, and slapped the lucky winner of the three pointer on the back, whooping. Sean rolled his eyes. Kevin was such a boy sometimes.

Yeah, Sean, that's kind of the point.

Laura was smiling. Sean gulped.

"You're staring."

"Shut up."

"You're not denying that you're staring."

"Shut up."

"Sean, please. It's been two weeks and you've avoided me every time I asked you what happened at that stupid tournament."

"I told you. We did good."

"Good? Sean, the only time I've ever seen you make grammar mistakes is when you're hiding something. Cause you suck at hiding things. Is something going on between you and Kevin? And don't tell me no because I know the answer is yes. I saw you two walking out of debate practice together yesterday."

"Creep."

Laura raised her eyebrows at him.

"Okay, fine. We, uh, we made it to out rounds."

"I know that, you doofus."

"And then we made out."

"You WHAT?"

Sean buried his face in his hands. "Jeez, Laura, couldn't you have picked a better place to interrogate me than this freaking public gymnasium? Besides, I thought you said you already knew what happened."

Laura glanced between Kevin, who currently had posession of the basketball, and Sean, whose face, or what she could see of it through his hands, was bright red.

"Aw, man," said Sean, his voice muffled. "I should have called your bluff."

"I knew it was going to work," she said smugly. "Tell me more."

"I think we're dating now."

"Ya think?"

"I am dating Kevin Price."

Laura's grin threatened to split her face. "Sean, baby," she cooed, "I am just so happy for you."

Sean rolled his eyes.

"Permission to submit your pictures to the yearbook as cutest couple?"

"Permission not granted."

Laura pried Sean's hands away from his face. "Really, Sean. I am so happy for you. You deserve it, hun."

"Deserve that?" Sean asked dismissively, waving a hand over in Kevin's direction, where Kevin was currently showing off- dribbling a ball through his legs, his mouth open like a fish. "Really, Laura, I thought you were my friend."

"Hey, be nice. He's hot."

"I know."

"Good. You gonna introduce me?"

"Sure."

"Now?"

Sean was about to say no when Kevin, who had just made his basket, spotted the two sitting several feet away.

"Oh, boy," Sean muttered.

Kevin bounded over to them. Laura brushed crumbs off her purple jacket, smiling.

"Sean! What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, actually," Sean said pointedly, looking at Laura.

Laura nudged him, then said to Kevin, "Oh, you know, just... hanging out."

"I haven't seen you here before," Kevin said, still looking at Sean.

"I'm Laura," Laura said, offering her hand.

"Oh, right. Nice to meet you. I'm Kevin."

"Sean was just telling me about that meet you went to."

"Tournament."

"Whatever."

Kevin laughed nervously. "I hope he said good things."

"He gave me a most glowing recommendation of your spreading skills. And when you kicked that K... Mmmm."

"...What?"

"Don't listen to her. She doesn't know what a K is, or how to kick one. Come on, Laura, we're going."

Laura frowned, but allowed Sean to drag her out of the gym. "It was nice meeting you, Kevin," she called over her shoulder. "Call me back! Anytime!"

Kevin blinked, watching them go. He might have seen Sean punch her before they went out.

* * *

><p>"I don't want to come out."<p>

"Sean."

"I don't. Why are we having this conversation? We've only been together a week."

"It's very important to me that I grace the lessers at our school with constant updates about my love life. If they don't know who I'm dating, it's very hard for them to wish they were me."

"You're so conceited."

"Sean."

"So let them think it's a mystery. I don't want to come out."

"Sean, you're practically out already."

"Wow, fuck you."

"What's your problem?"

"Just because I wear skinny jeans doesn't mean I'm gay."

"You mean you're not gay?"

"Shut up, you know the answer to that. But the rest of the student body doesn't have the right to make that assumption. Just because I have a satchel."

"They already do."

"I know that. I hate them."

"They pity you."

"Seriously, Kevin, fuck you."

"Why don't you want people to know you're my boyfriend?"

"Because."

"Because why? I'm the only one who's going to lose anything. You're going to look great. You know. Cause you're dating me."

"Do you always talk like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're the only person who's allowed to have an opinion, and it has to be about you? Oh, wait, yes, you do."

"Thanks."

"I don't want to come out because it will hurt you."

"What?"

"As reluctant as I am to do you any favors after you talk to me like you are talking right now, Kevin, I am worried about you. I do not want your popularity to hit rock bottom over night. I do not want you to have stupid things scrawled over your locker. I do not want you to feel uncomfortable in the locker rooms."

"I don't mind."

"You will."

"Sean... what if..."

"What if what?"

"What if I want people to know I care about you?"

"That's sweet."

"So?"

"I don't want to. Kevin, I- don't get me wrong. I'd love to come to your stupid little beer-fests as your arm candy. I'm not being sarcastic, right now, either. Hold on, Kevin, I'm talking- I want to. I want to get drunk with you and sit in the back of the room and put my hands all over you and have people say trashy things about us the next day. But not at the price of your social standing."

"That would be nice."

"What?"

"You putting your hands on me."

"Shut up."

"I want to come out, Sean. I do. Don't worry about me."

"You're a week into this."

"A week into dating you. Seventeen years into being gay. I'm pretty comfortable with myself, at this point."

"...I just want to be a teenager, Kevin."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to do the parties and the drinking and the gossip and the overwhelming feelings of first love and the crushing despair of those break-ups. Well, maybe I don't want the last one. But you know what I mean. I want to be overly emotional and dramatic and stupid about things that won't matter."

"You already are."

"Keep in mind, Kevin, you're trying to persuade me to do you a favor here."

"I'm sorry. What you said makes sense. We should do those things. I'll do them with you. I'll show you."

"Maybe."

"I want to."

"Maybe going public won't be the disaster I think it will be."

"It won't."

"How do you even come out to a school? Do you, like, hijack the PA system?"

"You hold my hand when we walk to first period tomorrow."

"...Kevin?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not ready for that."

"Okay."

"But I'll compromise with you?"

"Okay."

"Can we start small?"

"How so?"

"Can we... hold hands in the debate room?"

* * *

><p><strong>politics das<strong>- a disadvantage (type of argument) the negative team makes saying that your plan will be unpopular in congress, leading to other important legislation not being passed  
><strong>counterplans<strong>- an argument where the negative team advocates a policy as an alternative to the affirmative's plan  
><strong>non-topical<strong>- not falling under the resolution  
><strong>gene raytime cube**- Gene Ray is a crazy scientist who came up with Time Cube theory, which says that the way we measure time (24 hour days, 365 day years) is wrong, because we actually all live on a 4-sided cube (figure that one out, geometry students) and time goes from midnight to midnight, noon to noon, sunrise to sunrise, sunset to sunset... yeah, it doesn't make sense to me either. Gene Ray is most famous for saying, "when Jesus comes back to Earth, I will personally kill the bastard myself." He's homophobic, racist, and anti-semtic. I highly recommend that you google him because the time cube website is so great.  
><strong>cp statuses<strong>- a counterplan comes in three forms: conditional, dispositional, and unconditional. A conditional counterplan can be dropped by the negative team at any time, a dispositional cp can be dropped only if the affirmative team doesn't put offense on it, and an unconditional counterplan is a cp the negative team commits to advocating straight through the 2NR.  
><strong>relations uniqueness updates<strong>- a relations DA talks about how your plan will affect our relationships to China, India, Russia... any country. Will they like it? Be suspicious of it? These arguments have to be kept current because international relationships are always changing  
><strong>kick the k<strong>- to drop the K/not go for it in the 2NR

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! Feedback, of course, is appreciated. :D


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